Please Tell Me the Sun Will Rise Again
by Efia-an
Summary: It's the end of their time at Hogwarts and now it's time to face Voldemort.  Harry and Ron's relationship is tested and Hermione finally faces her feelings for Ron.  HarryRon SLASH.  Story written preHBP.
1. The First Sign of Danger

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or anything to do with JKR's world. I only wish I had a fraction of her ingenuity. Sigh.

**Warnings!** This story is **AU**. I came across this story in one of my old notebooks and decided it was actually kind of good and I wanted to post it before the last book comes out, but I'll warn you that I started this story before book six was ever published. Most notably that means that although this story takes place at the end of their seventh year, Dumbledore is still alive and horcruxes don't exist. This story contains **SLASH** between Ron and Harry. If you are offended by this then please don't read this! This story also contains **CHARACTER DEATHS**! I will remind you: this is a _war_ and good people die as well as bad people. But I promise, this will not be a massacre; I just want an escape clause built in here so that when I kill someone off, you can't complain that you weren't warned in advance. Also, this story **does not** necessarily have a happy ending (I'm still working out the details on how it ends, so I make no promises either way).

Just in case you didn't catch it the first time, this story is **AU**, contains **SLASH** and at least two **CHARACTER DEATHS**, and may not end happily.

By now you have been fully warned, so I am not to be held accountable if you hate my story because you are incapable of heeding said warnings. In other words, please don't flame me! But if you have constructive criticism or want to comment, reviews are always welcome!

**One final note:** Although this story has slash between Harry and Ron, I would argue that this story is really about Hermione and Ron's relationship more than Harry and Ron's. Theirs (Hermione/Ron) is a relationship in JKR's series that I truly adore and intend on exploring in this story. I hope you enjoy!

o0o0o0o0o

* * *

It was the evening before the much anticipated, much dreaded N.E.W.T. exams. In the Gryffindor tower, seventh year students were huddled together, swapping notes and practicing spells. All, that is, except Hermione, who sat determinedly in her own corner, more flustered than any of the rest of them. Although she had been studying for her exams for the past five months, she nonetheless seemed too distracted and agitated for anyone to approach for help. 

Throughout the evening she would mutter and curse, tugging at her hair and causing poofs of some unidentifiable smoke to explode from the tip of her wand that smelled oddly liked poached herring. She kept glancing significantly at Ron and Harry, who, despite the upcoming exams seemed content enough to keep pushing their books away and whispering or entwining their fingers together under the table.

"A_-hem_," she cleared her throat loudly.

No one looked up.

"_A-HEM!_" she tried again, this time standing up abruptly, causing her books and scrolls to fall violently from her lap and onto the floor. This time all heads went up in the common room, watching her nervously, expectantly.

"_I'm_ going to the library," she announced loudly and importantly, as if issuing a challenge.

Sever blank faces stared back at her but it was Ron who piped up. "Uh, Hermione, the library's closed now." As if to confirm what he just said, the grandfather clock began to chime midnight.

Hermione looked exasperated for a moment and then with a loud "Hmph!" she abruptly turned and huffed up to the girl's dormitory.

"What was that all about?" asked Ron to no one in particular.

"Who knows?" answered Harry. "It's the night before the N.E.W.T.s. I guess we should have expected something like this from her."

Actually, Hermione had stormed out because she could not stand watching Harry and Ron together anymore. They could not seem to keep their hands off each other even in public places and she simply could not take it one moment longer.

Her recent breakup with Viktor Krum had certainly stung, but it was Ron she still could not stop feeling for; he was supposed to be hers. She had dated Viktor because he was a decent, sincere guy who was incredibly sweet to her. But when she owned to the truth, she knew it really had started as a way to make Ron jealous and aware of his own feelings for her. Sadly that had backfired on her and for the past few years Ron had found his comfort in Harry's arms instead.

They still acted like puppy-lovers, though, and on this particular night she wanted Ron more strongly than she had in many months. Watching him with Harry was torture for her, pure and simple. She had to get away.

While Hermione was upstairs, wrestling with her emotions, back in the common room noise and clutter had once again erupted. Fifth and seventh years had returned to their frantic studying and spells were flying around the room so quickly one had to be careful walking about lest they accidentally get hit with one. But as the buzz reappeared Harry and Ron continued to sit watching the stairway up which Hermione had disappeared moments ago. Despite their feeble attempts at explaining her odd behavior, both felt a little uneasy.

"Of course she _is_ under a lot of stress, you know," Ron muttered to Harry. "What with Viktor and the exams and all. Terrible timing, that breakup. Right before the N.E.W.T.s like that and all."

Harry nodded, slightly distracted. "Yeah, I know what you mean. But that happened a week ago now and it's not like they saw much of each other to begin with, what with Viktor being at another school all the time-"

Suddenly he cut off, gasping. He placed his left hand over his forehead as pain seared through his scar, more poignant than he had felt all year.

"Your scar hurts?" Ron asked, forgetting Hermione in his concern for his lover. "But I thought you had found a way to work through the pain."

Harry gasped again, nodding. "Y-yeah," he stammered, "but this… this I haven't felt since Voldemort came back into power." He paused again as another wave hit him, brining with it a bought of nausea. "Not since Dumbledore taught me the mastery of Occ–"

In an instant Ron had his arm around Harry, supporting his weight as he doubled over in pain again. By this time the common room had grown still, all eyes on Harry, though neither he nor Ron took any notice.

"Harry," Ron half-whispered, "Love, what is it?"

"I… don't… know." Harry stammered out.

Ron's concern grew. "I thought you always knew what You-Know-Who was feeling when you got these attacks."

Harry shook his head weakly but managed to straighten, the pain receding back to its usual dull ache as quickly as it had come, leaving Harry a bit breathless and feeling weak. "Not this time," he answered.

"Maybe you should go see Madam Pomphrey," Seamus suggested.

"You should go to Dumbledore, you should," inserted Neville. "That wasn't any ordinary pain."

Harry glanced up at his friend. "No. It's gone now. I don't want to bother him this late over a little headache."

"That was no 'little headache', mate," said Seamus.

"You're right," answered Harry, "But I'm fine now. Just really tired. I think I'll call it a night. If I don't know it by now more studying won't help. I'm not going to be able to learn anything more at this point anyway."

"I'll take him up," said Ron. "Good night, everyone."

"'Night. Hope you're feeling better in the morning!"

"Yeah. Feel better, Harry."

Harry smiled wanly at his friends. "Thanks guys. Good night. Don't stay up all night studying. It'd do no good if you're falling asleep during the exam."

A few ironic chuckles went around the table. No one doubted that were they to try to sleep it would elude each and every one of them tonight. These exams meant their future. Nevertheless voices chimed in, promising to get to bed before too long and Harry and Ron started up the stairs to their dormitory.

As they passed Ginny on the way out Harry muttered to her. "Get Hermione, would you? We need to talk to her."

Ginny nodded and dashed up the stairs to fetch Hermione as Ron helped Harry up the stairs and into bed.

Because of their ever growing friendship and the secrets they shared with one another, Ginny alone suspected why Hermione had acted so strangely earlier this evening. Her heart went out to her friend in her turmoil but she held her peace. While she adored Ron, she really thought he was a git for snubbing Hermione, intentionally or not.

She found Hermione standing by the open window, her arms crossed protectively around her and her head leaned against the cold stone in a very familiar way. Hermione was staring out over Hogwarts' grounds and to the full moon, her thoughts clearly far away.

As she heard Ginny enter she stated absently, "If I pass my N.E.W.T.s okay, they're already talking about me taking over for Professor McGonagle in a few years when she retires."

Ginny wondered at the abruptness of the statement. "It doesn't surprise me," she answered. "I believe they all call you the brightest witch of your age, ever."

Hermione scowled. "All but Draco and his goons, Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber. I'm nothing but a 'filthy little mudblood' to them." She scowled angrily. "I'll 'filthy mudblood' them!" she announced, pounding her fist into her open palm.

"Um, Hermione?" Ginny definitely did not know what she was talking about, nor where this was coming from although she shared the sentiment. As much as she sympathized, however, she had been sent here with another purpose.

"Yes Ginny?" Hermione asked, the edge not quite gone from her voice.

"Something's happened to Harry. He and Ron are in the boys' dorm and asked for you to join them. Harry won't tell anyone else what just happened. – It's his scar again." she added after a brief pause.

Suddenly Hermione's anger at the boys melted away. They still were, after all, her best friends. "Of course. Right away."

When she entered the boys' dormitory her jealousy reemerged for a fraction of a second as the first thing she saw was Ron leaning over and kissing Harry gently and tenderly. But the feeling passed quickly as she noticed how white Harry was.

"I'm here," she announced. "What happened, Harry?"

"I'm not sure," answered Harry. "I was talking with Ron about… well, about something, and suddenly I felt Voldemort."

Hermione ignored Harry's hesitation; she could well guess what they had been talking about. Sweet nothings, no doubt. "Voldemort? You saw him? Like another vision or dream?"

"No, not exactly."

Ron paled slightly. "Was it… was it like the time you, I mean You-Know-Who attacked my dad? Were you _him_?"

Had Harry the strength he would have snapped at Ron. It was obvious Ron still had not gotten over that incident. Briefly it crossed his mind that if Ron could not trust or forgive him yet for that then their relationship was nothing more than a sham.

Instead of voicing any of this however, he let his body sag even further into the pillow that was supporting him and said wearily, "No, nothing like that. Listen," he added quickly as he saw Hermione open her mouth to ask another question. "I don't know how exactly to describe it. One minute I was in the common room, talking with Ron and then it felt like, well, like I was being pulled backwards. But not physically. It was like I was sitting still while the common room pulled away from me. I knew I was still there, but it was like I was seeing it from a distance, through a green window. And I felt Voldemort there, in the room. It was like he was taking a knife to my head, carving my scar deeper into my head and then all I felt was pain."

"Pain?" Hermione asked, clearly confused. "Pain from your scar or pain from Voldemort? -- Oh for heaven's sakes, Ron!" she interrupted herself at Ron's wince at the name. "You of all people should be over that by now!" Hermione was cross enough with Ron as it was without adding any of this silliness to the mix.

"Sorry," mumbled Ron, glancing at Hermione before looking to Harry for his answer to Hermione's question. For some reason Hermione always made him feel so small these days.

"From neither, exactly," Harry answered, frowning. "It felt like my head was splitting apart from the seams… my scar, I mean. I've never felt anything quite like it from him before." Harry paused for a moment before taking on, "And normally when Voldemort attacks, I at least see or feel or hear something coming from him. This time, nothing."

Ron and Hermione stared at Harry, not sure how to respond.

"Well," Hermione finally asked, "What do you think it means?"

"I don't know," answered Harry. "It was like he wanted something from inside my head and didn't know of any other way to get it out."

"But what?" blurted Ron, both confused and angry, "What could he possibly need to know from you?"

"The Prophesy," whispered Hermione.

Ron looked skeptically at Hermione. "I thought you didn't believe in that sort of stuff. That it was all fluff and nonsense," he said sarcastically.

Hermione shot him a withering stare before responding. "Regardless of what I believe or not, it's obvious Voldemort does. _And_," she shot at Ron as he opened his mouth to counter, "I don't necessarily think it's all rubbish. There's got to be some truth behind them for there to be a whole room full of them at the Department of Mysteries. It's just all of them that Professor Trelawny makes up. _She_ I don't believe ever uttered a single truth." Her face darkened.

Ron stared at her, mouth hanging slightly agape. "But Hermione," he started before stopping as Harry lay a hand on his arm, giving the slightest imperceptible shake of the head. Confused at why Harry stopped him, he looked to Harry for an answer then realized Harry never told Hermione who uttered the Prophesy in the first place.

Suddenly he knew why: if Hermione knew the truth, she would not put any stock into it anymore and Harry might lose the support of one of his best friends, not to mention one of the smartest witches alive, student or otherwise.

The silent exchange between Harry and Ron was not lost on Hermione. Angered, Hermione could tell that once again she was being left out of something between them that had nothing to do with their relationship. She crossed her arms, fuming and scowling at them.

"Sorry, Hermione," said Harry to calm her down, "it's nothing personal. I just can't tell you."

"Oh, but you can tell him?" she huffed, jerking her thumb and her head in Ron's direction.

"I didn't exactly tell him," answered Harry vaguely.

"Yeah Hermione," Ron interrupted, looking guilty. "I sort of dragged it from him a piece at a time. He didn't want to share even with me."

This still did not pacify Hermione and the implied secrets they shared because they were lovers only provoked her further. But she held her peace and instead abruptly changed the topic.

Looking hard at Harry she said matter-of-factly, "You need to tell Professor Dumbledore."

Harry and Ron exchanged glances. What _was_ going on with Hermione and all these mood swings?

"No, not yet. There's no reason to run to Dumbledore every time my scar hurts."

"But Harry," Hermione objected, "this isn't like 'every time'. This is serious!"

Ron glanced at Hermione before slightly repositioning himself to look at Harry. "She's right, love. You really should tell him. He asked you to report to him any time something suspicious or out of the ordinary happens. And mate," Ron added, "This is definitely out of the ordinary."

"What, you're taking her side now, are you?" Harry asked, slightly irritated.

"Yes. I'm concerned. We're your friends, Harry. We care about you and worry about you. And Dumbledore–" Ron broke off as Harry interrupted.

"Dumbledore is really busy, teaching and running Hogwarts and the Order and all. I'll be fine."

This time it was Ron and Hermione who exchanged glances. Harry was not the only thing they were concerned about. Dumbledore might have some answers to this problem and any little opportunity that could help defeat Voldemort should be taken. The war was going badly after all. Still, it was obvious Harry was not going to change his mind, so they let the matter drop.

"Well, if you say so," said Hermione, "but promise me you'll go to him if anything like this happens again. Promise me, Harry!" she added, grabbing his arm.

Sighing, knowing he would never win this battle, Harry nodded. "I promise, Hermione."

"Good. Now we should all go to sleep. We have exams tomorrow," Hermione pointed out sensibly. "Good night!" And with that she flounced out of the room.

"Good night!" Harry and Ron called out after her retreating figure.

"Why'd she go and have to point out the exams?" Ron asked Harry miserably.

Harry smiled wanly at him. "I for one don't mind. It says that Hermione is still Hermione, despite whatever's going on with her."

"Well, there's the whole Viktor thing," said Ron, the tips of his ears turning pink. "That there's bloody poor timing."

"Why Ron!" Harry exclaimed, surprised. "I dare say!"

Ron blushed. "You know it's not like that. No one could replace you!" he murmured, tenderly brushing the hair out of Harry's eyes. He reached down and gave him a light kiss. "There's no one I'd rather be with than you."

"Not even Hermione?" Harry teased gently.

"Mmm… not even Hermione." He kissed Harry again.

"Your loyalty to her though… maybe you should have been sorted into Hufflepuff."

Ron chuckled softly, ironically. "I'm a Weasley. There's only one House we end up in."

"Yes, well, I'm glad you ended up in Gryffindor," murmured Harry, gazing deeply into Ron's eyes.

"Me too," Ron answered back, caressing Harry's face. His actions revealed Harry's scar from between his bangs. Ron frowned for a moment, staring at it. Was it redder than usual? Choosing not to say anything, he reached forward and kissed it like he had done a thousand times before, tracing the jagged scar with his tongue. He jerked back.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed, "Your scar! It's… it's… it's warm!"

Harry grinned. "It must like your touch," he flirted, reaching for Ron once again.

Ron withdrew from his touch, a look of deep concern etched across his face. "Harry, I'm serious. I've never felt it like this before. Surely you can feel it too!"

Harry reached up and rubbed his scar. It _was_ warm. "That's odd," he said, sounding a bit confused. "It's never been warm to the touch before. And the pain is gone now… so I don't get it!"

"Please, Harry, promise me you'll go see Dumbledore tomorrow! I couldn't bear it if anything…" Ron's voice cracked, emotions clearly breaking through.

"I know," answered Harry seriously. "I feel the same way about you. If I were in your shoes…" He sighed. "Fine. Out of love for you I will go see Dumbledore tomorrow after our first exam."

Relief flooded through Ron's face. "Good. I'm glad."

"It _is_ odd, though," added Harry thoughtfully.

"What's odd?" asked Ron.

"Voldemort's timing. He's been quiet for months. I haven't felt him so strongly since Christmas morning – you remember? – and yet suddenly, right before I take my N.E.W.T.s, the very tests that will decide my career and life as an adult wizard, only a week before I leave Hogwarts for good… you don't find this peculiar at all?"

Ron gazed into Harry's eyes, searching them for a moment before he answered. "I don't know, love. Maybe Dumbledore will have some answers for you tomorrow."

"Yeah, maybe." Harry was doubtful, but he was also eager to get off the subject. "Now, stop distracting me. We should get some good night's sleep. We have exams tomorrow!" he said, mimicking Hermione well.

Ron grinned and lightly swatted Harry with a pillow. "Distracting, am I?" he asked. "Well, if that's the case, I'll sleep in my own bed tonight!" He made as if to move towards his bed.

"Come here, you!" Harry grabbed his arm playfully. "I will not hear of such nonsense." Pulling Ron down on top of him, Harry laughed lightly. "I wouldn't want my 'good luck charm' out of reach tonight!" With that, he kissed Ron soundly.

Ron sighed, content. Harry seemed to be back to himself again. Satisfied with this thought, he got into bed next to Harry and kissed him goodnight, his thoughts far away from the lonely girl in the next dormitory who lay awake worrying about exams, Harry, and especially thinking of the only one she had ever loved, feeling miserable and full of regrets.

To be continued...


	2. Apprehension Starts to Set In

The next morning dawned early and cold, the air coming from the windows crisp and invigorating. Harry woke right after the dawn broke and lay in bed feeling remarkably refreshed. The previous night's adventure seemed to fade as the morning dew before a smiling sun. Harry knew that it had happened but as he faced the coming day, all he felt in his stomach were butterflies. This was his last week at Hogwarts, the first place he had ever felt at home. While Ron's family had adopted him as their own and he loved the Burrow, Hogwarts remained Harry's first home.

Now, with the full realization upon him that his life here was drawing to a close, it struck Harry how temporary a home it really had been. And even while he felt saddened at the thought of leaving this place, he was also excited as he and Ron would find a new home and build a new life together. Harry would finally be eternally free of the Dursleys.

And, with a little luck on his side, he might even become an Auror. Harry still wasn't sure how that would happen, as he did not receive an "outstanding" on his potions O.W.L. and therefore did not make it into Snape's N.E.W.T. class, but Harry knew that somehow there _must_ be a way to still obtain his goals. There simply was nothing else he wanted to be.

His musings were interrupted by Ron who stirred, waking from his deep sleep. He looked momentarily confused as if his waking came unexpectedly, but as he looked over at Harry he smiled sleepily.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," said Harry fondly.

"Morning," Ron yawned. "What time is it?"

"It's early yet," Harry answered.

"Oh," Ron half-sighed. Suddenly he jolted up, wide awake. Looking at Harry's questioning face he explained, "For one blissful moment I forgot what day it was."

"Ah," Harry answered.

"Can't we just play hookie and run off to Hogsmeade together for some romantic getaway instead?"

Harry allowed himself one wistful moment to contemplate Ron's suggestion before he answered. "Only if we want to fail our N.E.W.T.s and spend our lives working at your brothers' joke shop."

Disappointment crossed with a scowl on Ron's face. "No, I don't want that!" he growled. "Likely as not I'd end up as their test subject, lose all my hair, turn into a grapefruit and mistakenly be eaten as someone's breakfast."

Harry laughed. "We don't want that," he chuckled, "but in the event that does occur, I'll stand guard over you so that you never get eaten."

"Oh great," Ron grumbled, "So instead of consumption my fate is to rot to death."

"Best to avoid Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes all together, then," Harry said logically.

"Humph," Ron answered.

"Your enthusiasm is overwhelming," Harry replied sarcastically.

"Forgive me if I don't want to end my life as a piece of sour fruit," Ron answered.

Harry leaned over Ron suggestively. "Fortunately I know the cure to such an ailment," he murmured.

"Oh?" Ron asked, arching an eyebrow inquisitively. "And what exactly might that be?"

"To cover you with sweet kisses," answered Harry, who proceeded to demonstrate, "and then take you away with me to spend your life away from those who conspire to turn you into said fruit."

"Ahh…" Ron signed appreciatively at the ministrations of Harry's tongue in his ear.

"What did you say?" asked Harry, continuing to press kisses over Ron's face while his hands explored the rest of his body.

"Uh…" Ron stammered, trying to regain his thoughts.

"That's what I thought you said," answered Harry, pausing long enough to grin at him.

"You've really gotten much better at that, you know," Ron finally managed to say. "Much improved since our first kiss."

Harry grinned mischievously. "I have you to thank for that," he answered. "You… and plenty of practice."

"Plenty of practice?" Ron echoed, pulling away slightly. "Harry, is there something you're not telling me? Have you had another lover all this while I know nothing of?"

"Well," answered Harry in mock thoughtfulness, "there was that brief fling with Seamus… and then of course there was Neville…"

Ron smacked him good-humoredly with a pillow. "Get off, you big oaf," he said. "I'm devastated! Crushed! Beside myself! How could you not have told me before now?"

Harry obediently rolled off Ron. "Silly boy. You know it's only ever been you. You're all the 'practice' I ever wanted."

"Hmm… Must have been enjoying it too much to notice," Ron answered, leaning forward to land a wet smack on Harry's lips.

It was at this precise moment Hermione came bounding into the room. "Harry! Ron!" She stopped short at the scene in front of her. A pained look flitted through her eyes before she was able to mask it.

"Oh. I didn't mean to interrupt anything," she snapped angrily. "Let me know when you two are ready to stop lolling around and get down to breakfast. We can still get in a few hours of studying before the first exam. That is assuming, of course, that you want to get your lazy bums out of bed so you can actually _pass_."

Turning, she stomped back down the stairs without waiting for an answer.

Ron looked at Harry wide-eyed. "What _is_ going on with her anyway?" he asked him.

Harry shook his head. "I have no idea," he answered equally bemused. "Come on. If we hurry we can catch up with her before she gets downstairs."

"Good idea," Ron said, launching himself from the bed and dressing hurriedly. Then suddenly he stopped and turned back to Harry with concern in his eyes. "By the way, how's your scar feeling this morning?"

Harry grinned. "Never better!" he answered.

Ron eyed him suspiciously. "You sure?"

"Seriously, Ron," Harry answered, pulling on his robe and coming around the other side of the bed to where Ron stood. "See for yourself!"

Ron reached up and brushed Harry's bangs away. Pressing his fingers against the scar he smiled. It felt like it always did.

"See?" Harry asked, taking Ron's hand down off his forehead and pressing a kiss against the fingers. "Never better! Now let's go find Hermione."

Dashing down the stairs they ran into the deserted common room. "Hermione?" Harry called, knowing it was useless.

"She must have already gone downstairs to breakfast," Ron remarked.

But she was not at breakfast either. Harry and Ron sat down at their usual spots at the Gryffindor table and started in on their eggs and potatoes.

"Maybe she's in the library," Ron said with his mouth full.

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, probably. We can go check after we finish eating."

Just then Ginny came in and sat down across from Harry. "Check what?" she asked only mildly curious.

"For Hermione," Harry answered.

"Oh." Ginny said. "She's probably at the library."

"Yeah, that's what we figured too," Harry replied.

"Hey Ginny, you're friends with Hermione, right?" Ron asked.

Ginny regarded him with one eyebrow raised. "Yes. Why?"

"Do you know what's going on with her?" She's acting so strange lately. I mean, strange even for her at exam time."

A fleeting, funny look crossed Ginny's face then rolling her eyes she let out an exasperated sigh. "Boys," she said. "You're hopeless." Standing she took her tray and moved down to sit with some girls in her own class.

Harry and Ron exchanged confused looks.

"Girls should come with user manuals," Ron said, looking after his sister.

"Yeah," Harry answered, equally baffled. "It must be something in their water."

o0o0o0o

After breakfast Ron and Harry went to meet Hermione in the library, but were once again surprised not to find her. Nor was she found in any of the classrooms, the prefects' lounge, or, thankfully, the hospital ward.

"Maybe she went down to see Hagrid," suggested Ron hopefully.

"Well, she's nowhere else, I guess," answered Harry dubiously. "But I hardly think she'd be up for much socializing when the N.E.W.T.s are only moments away."

Ron's face fell. "You're right," answered, resigned.

Harry patted Ron on the shoulder. "Don't worry, love. She'll turn up. She'd never miss her exams."

Upon deciding that there was nowhere else to look, Harry and Ron gave up and contented themselves with the knowledge that Hermione was probably fine and just holed away somewhere studying. Taking their cue from the absent Hermione they spent their last half hour before their exam in the library with several other seventh years, trying desperately to cram in as much knowledge as possible into their already spend minds. Only after someone raised the alarm that the charms exam was due to start in a matter of minutes did the group start to gather everything up and move for the exit.

Once out in the hall Harry and Ron broke out in a run, hoping not to be late for their impending exam. Racing down the corridors they managed to make it down to the Great Hall just as the rest of their classmates were filing in.

"Phew! Made it!" announced Ron. "Do you see Hermione?"

Craning their necks to see over all the heads they managed to see that Hermione was already seated with her quill at the ready and an oddly pleased look on her face.

Harry and Ron looked at each other and shrugged. "At least she's okay," Ron said.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "But why is she looking so happy?"

"You know Hermione," Ron answered cheerfully. "She's always happiest when she's taking a test."

"Yeah, _during_ a test, maybe. But have you ever seen her anything but flustered _before_ an exam?" Harry pointed out.

Ron shrugged. "Let's go in."

"Just a moment, Harry," a familiar voice broke in.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Ron stammered. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for Harry. If you don't mind, Mr. Weasley, I need to borrow him for just a moment. You go on ahead."

Ron looked dubiously at Harry.

"Go on then, mate," Harry prompted. "I'll be right in."

Glancing once more at the headmaster, Ron strolled in and Harry watched as he leaned over and whispered to Hermione. Turning back to Dumbledore he waited.

"Don't worry, Harry. I won't keep you from your exam. I know how important it is. But I learned some disturbing news just now from Miss Granger about what happened last night."

Harry squirmed. "Erm… Professor, I was going to tell you about that…"

Dumbledore peered down at Harry and once again Harry got the impression that the professor was reading his thoughts. After just a moment of study Dumbledore smiled slightly, though no amusement was in his eyes.

"I thought, Harry, that I had made myself perfectly clear to you. If _anything_ like this happens again, I expect you to report it to me at your earliest convenience."

"Yes, Professor," Harry mumbled, feeling slightly shamed.

"Now I won't keep you from your exam as I can see Professor Womblymutts giving me an evil eye, but after your exam please come and see me. I want to hear more about last night."

"Yes, sir," Harry answered. "I will."

He turned to go in and heard Dumbledore's voice once more. "And Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Good luck!"

"Thank you sir."

o0o0o0o

The written part of the exam was even more difficult than Harry was anticipating, but he noticed that Hermione was the first to finish. After turning her paper in, she flounced out of the room, barely pausing to give Harry an encouraging little smile. Harry, who still slightly miffed at her for turning him in to Dumbledore, couldn't quite return the sentiment. Hermione didn't seem to notice.

It wasn't until after he finished the exam that Harry caught up with her. Ron was still inside the Great Hall finishing.

"What'd you go and tell Dumbledore for?" Harry asked her. "I told you I was fine."

"You were _not_ fine, Harry," said Hermione defensively. "_Your_ biggest problem is that you're too stubborn for your own good! You won't listen to reason!"

"For your information, Hermione, I _was_ planning on talking to Dumbledore," Harry answered hotly. "Now he won't believe me because you had to go running to him first, tattling on me like some first year."

Hermione was taken aback at the assault Harry just made and she and Harry glared at one another for a moment before she spoke again.

"Excuse me for being concerned," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "I'll just leave you alone then, shall I?"

With that she stomped away, her hands balled into fists at her side.

"Hermione, wait!" Harry called, running to catch up with her, his anger with her evaporating at the sight of her storming off.

"What do you want, Harry?" Hermione asked, stopping but not turning, weariness in her voice.

"I-I'm sorry," Harry stuttered, surprised at himself. "It's not your fault. I know you're just looking out for me. You didn't know that Ron had already made me promise to go see him. It really was decent of you."

"Oh Harry!" Hermione sobbed, turning finally to hug him.

"Hey!" Harry said gently, concern in his voice. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing…" her muffled sniffle came.

"Don't lie to me, Hermione. We've been through too much together for that now."

She sniffed once then let out a loud sob into Harry's shoulder.

"Come on, Hermione, you can tell me."

Hermione shook her head. "No. No I can't. Please don't ask me."

Harry held her uncertainly, at a loss for words for a moment. Finally he spoke. "Well, you can always talk to me if you need to, okay?"

Hermione nodded and stepped back, wiping her tears away as she did so.

"You will talk to Dumbledore, won't you?" she asked again, gaining control of her emotions.

"Yes, Hermione, I promise. In fact, I'll go see him right now. Do you want to come with me to make sure?"

Hermione gave a watery chuckle. "No, I trust you," she said. "Besides, Ancient Runes is after lunch and I have to study."

"Now that sounds more like the Hermione I know," Harry said, finally feeling more comfortable with his friend.

"Go!" exclaimed Hermione, giving him a light shove.

"You sure you're all right?"

"Yes!" she answered impatiently. "Just go already!"

"Yes ma'am!" Harry said, saluting her with his wand. Turning, he made his way up to Dumbledore's office.

"Gobstoppers," Harry announced to the stone gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office.

Slowly the statue moved aside to reveal the familiar spiral staircase that led to Dumbledore's office. Knocking only once on the door once he reached the top he heard the headmaster beckon him in.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore said, looking up from the parchment he was writing on. Rolling up the note and sealing it, he gave it to Fawkes who flew out the window with it without further instruction from the professor. "And how was your exam?"

"Fine sir."

Dumbledore smiled, this time the smile dancing in his eyes. "I can see from your expression just how 'fine' it went. But you did not come here to discuss your Transfiguration test with me."

"No sir." Harry said, shifting slightly under the headmaster's gaze. Even though they had spent many hours together in the past few years, first through private Occlumancy lessons then through many meetings to train Harry for the unpleasant task that lay ahead, Harry still occasionally felt awkward with his mentor.

Dumbledore sighed and leaned back. He closed his eyes for a moment before speaking again.

"Harry, I would think by now you'd know that no matter concerning you is too small for my attention."

"Sir?"

Dumbledore opened his eyes and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk and pressing his fingers together. "Don't feel like you have to tackle this horrendous responsibility all by yourself. Yes, it is ultimately your burden to bear, but don't forget that you have friends - myself included - who will help you along the way."

"I'm sorry I didn't come to you about the scar, Professor," Harry said. "I just… I guess I just didn't think it was worth bothering you… that my scar was hurting _again_, like it has so many times before."

"From what I understand from Miss Grainger, it wasn't like so many times before," said the headmaster shrewdly.

"Er- not exactly."

"I heard what Hermione told me about it, but why don't you tell me in your own words?"

So Harry talked. And remarkably, the more he talked, the more he felt like sharing until finally the whole story came out, including his concern for Hermione and her strange behavior from the night before and this morning.

"Hmm…" Dumbledore said thoughtfully once Harry finally finished talking. Silence enveloped the room for a long moment before he spoke.

"Harry, what would you say you were feeling right before this attack happened?"

Harry thought back for a moment then blushed slightly as he thought back to his conversation with Ron before Hermione abruptly left the room. Some things were just a bit too private to share with the headmaster.

Dumbledore smiled. "Ahh, I see," said the headmaster, nodding.

Harry started. "Sir?" he asked hesitantly.

"I see that you're not ready to share those feelings openly with me yet," answered Dumbledore kindly, "but let me assure you that I will not pry into your and Mr. Weasley's personal life. That matter is your own. However, I was wondering about what you were feeling more immediately before the attack."

Harry blushed scarlet at Dumbledore's words. Though it was no secret that he and Ron were a couple, they did try to keep their relationship low profile and within the safety of Gryffindor Tower. This was the first time Dumbledore acknowledged his understanding of their more intimate relationship.

"Do not feel ashamed, Harry," said Dumbledore again. "For love is a mysterious treasure that is worth far more than anything else in this world. Once you've found it, it's worth hanging on to."

"Yes sir," answered Harry, still red in the face.

"I see that I've embarrassed you and that was never my intention. Let us change the subject. Have you figured out what you're going to do after school lets out?"

Harry, grateful for the headmaster's tact, immediately relaxed. "I do want to pursue being an Auror, sir," Harry answered, "but I do not think I could stand sitting around any longer studying when I could be out looking for Voldemort."

Dumbledore nodded. "Just as I figured. You are not the sort to wait for him to find you. I'm glad you were at least willing to wait this long to finish your schooling. I think that you will find yourself glad that you underwent the additional training once you finally do come face to face with him."

"Yes sir. I'm sure I will."

Dumbledore studied Harry for a second. "You may go, Harry. But please contact me if _anything_ out of the ordinary happens again, even if it is 'just' that your scar hurts. By now you've learned to keep Voldemort out of your thoughts, were he even so foolish to try to invade them again, and while your scar will forever alert you to his moods, an attack such as last night's is most unusual. I fear it does not bode well, Harry."

"Yes sir," Harry answered, a sense of foreboding mixing with relief to be finally leaving. Just as he had his hand on the handle to leave, however, a thought struck him.

"Professor Dumbledore?" he asked.

"Yes Harry?"

"Do you know what's wrong with Hermione?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Ahhh. I have my suspicions, but that is for her to tell you, when she's ready."

Recognizing the headmaster's dismissal, Harry turned the handle and left the office, his head full of questions about Hermione and what exactly Dumbledore was concerned about. Suddenly he felt very small in the light of the realization that the event he had been training for these past few years was upon him. Hogwarts not only was no longer going to be home to him, but leaving the safety of these walls also meant his destiny was waiting for him. And he wasn't so sure he was eager to meet it.


	3. At the Burrow

Harry wasn't entirely sure how he made it through his exams without cracking, but by the end of the week, he was almost glad to leave Hogwarts behind. He knew that he would miss it shortly, but for his immediate purposes, Harry was quite glad to be done. More remarkably than even that, however, was that, upon disembarking from the train, he was not greeted by the Dursleys nor need he ever return there again. This time he was going home with Ron for a brief stay before setting out on his mission to find Voldemort and destroy him once and for all.

As many cheerful (and some tearful) good-byes were said, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood together on Platform nine and three quarters, making plans to see each other in the coming weeks. To both Harry and Ron's immense relief, Hermione seemed to be back to her old self again. It must just have been the stress of passing the N.E.W.T.s which determined so much of their future that had caused such extreme emotional outbursts from her. Now that the exams were behind, all Hermione had to worry about was waiting for them to arrive by owl six weeks from now.

"So we'll see you in a week, then?" Ron confirmed with Hermione.

"Yes. I promised I'd go home and spend a couple days with my folks," Hermione answered. "They miss seeing me sometimes, and it's the least I can do for them before…"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah," he answered as she trailed off, "I know what you're saying. But I've already told you, you don't have to come with me. This is my battle and mine alone."

"Get off it, Harry!" exclaimed Ron, "We're your friends! You're stuck with us, whether you like it or not."

Harry grinned. "I know. And I'm glad for your support."

"See you next Sunday at the Burrow, then?" Hermione questioned.

"You betcha!" Harry smiled.

As Hermione walked away Ron leaned over and murmured low in Harry's ear. "Like I could just let you walk off and face You-Know-Who alone! As if!"

Harry leaned over and gave Ron a discrete peck on the cheek. "Thank you."

Ron smiled back at Harry then said, "You ready to go?"

"Oh yeah!" exclaimed Harry, "More than ready!"

"C'mon then, let's get home."

"Isn't your family meeting us?" Harry asked, suddenly aware that he saw no sign of Mr. or Mrs. Weasley.

Ron frowned. "They were supposed to. After all, Ginny's still underage. They'd have to come pick her up. Dad said he got a ministry car for us all. I wonder where they are."

"Let's go outside then and see if we can find them out there," suggested Harry. "Have you seen Ginny?"

"Yeah, she's on the train saying goodbye to her boyfriend."

Harry looked surprised. "I didn't know she had a boyfriend!"

"Yeah, he's kinda new. I only met him a few days ago myself," answered Ron. "Anyway, let's go out and see if we can find Mum and Dad. Ginny can catch up with us in a minute."

Harry nodded, glad to be distracted from Ron's news. Though Ginny had had a series of boyfriends over the years, he always felt a little let down whenever he heard news of a new one. Harry tried not to linger too long on why exactly this might be. At one point he thought it might be that he didn't like that Ginny no longer was attracted to him and he missed that feeling. But about two years ago he eventually came to the conclusion that it was more of a brotherly affection that he felt for her, being practically related to her through Ron, and naturally that extended to concern for her well-being. They had, after all, been through a lot together.

"There they are!" exclaimed Ron once they went through the barrier, pointing in their direction.

"Harry! Ron!" exclaimed Mrs. Weasley, running towards them and embracing them right there in the middle of the crowded platform.

"Oh Mum!" Ron protested, wriggling away. Then changing the subject he said, "Ginny's coming."

"Oh good!" said Mrs. Weasley before turning to greet Harry. "Hello, Harry. Have a good year?"

"Oddly better than most, actually," Harry said, wondering what this boded for him in the coming months.

"That's nice to hear, dear," Mrs. Weasley answered. "End of term went okay?"

Harry shot Ron a warning glance. He did not want Mrs. Weasley worrying about the episode with his scar. She had enough to worry about with Fred and George missing and with Ron, Hermione, and himself leaving in a week to search out Voldemort.

"Yeah, it was fine," Harry lied swiftly. "I'm just glad exams are over."

"I'm sure you are," Mrs. Weasley said affectionately. "I remember only too well my own N.E.W.T.s years ago. I'm still glad I never have to take them again!"

"Hello Mr. Weasley," Harry said as Mr. Weasley caught up with his wife.

"Harry! So good to see you!" Mr. Weasley proclaimed. "It's wonderful that you can come and stay with us for a little while before heading out."

"Yeah," grinned Harry. "I've been looking forward to it."

"What kept you guys so long?" Ron broke in. "Why weren't you there to greet the train?"

"Oh, it's this weather!" exclaimed Mr. Weasley. "It hasn't stopped pouring like this in over a week! We left the house early, but we still got caught up in it. Then one of those – I think Muggles call them 'pleasemen' – was giving me a hard time for parking in a spot he claims was unavailable. But I think we cleared it all up in the end though."

"Glad to hear it," Harry answered, smiling.

"Oh, there's Ginny!" Ron interrupted, waving his sister over.

"Everybody ready, then?" asked Mr. Weasley.

Harry, Ron, and Ginny all nodded.

"Okay then! Just be prepared to get little wet. That pleaseman had me park quite a ways away!"

'A little wet' was an understatement. By the time the Weasleys and Harry made it to the car they were all drenched to the bone and resembling drowned rats. Hedwig hooted dolefully and even Pigwidgeon was unusually moody as well.

Mr. Weasley performed a drying charm once they all were tucked into the car, but it did little good once they got back to the Burrow some time later. The rain was coming down even harder by then and just running from the car to the front door was enough to get them completely drenched again.

Harry and Ron traipsed up to Ron's bedroom at the top of the house and set their trunks at the end of their respective beds. (Since Harry had become an honorary member of the family the Weasleys had permanently moved Percy's old bed into Ron's room for Harry to use when he visited. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley didn't know that the second bed was rarely, if ever, used.)

"Ugh! I'm soaked through!" Ron groaned, plopping down on his bed and stripping off his wet clothes.

Harry watched him appreciatively. "Careful there, love," he teased gently, "You'll put ideas into my head."

Ron wagged his eyebrows at Harry and Harry laughed.

"Well maybe that's not such a bad idea," Ron said. Staring at Harry still in his dripping wet clothes he raised one eyebrow. "Don't you want to get out of those wet things as well?"

Harry didn't need to be invited twice. Stripping quickly he joined Ron on the bed. Leaning in he kissed Ron full on the mouth and allowed his left hand to wander freely up Ron's leg while the other supported Ron's head.

"Mmm, that feels nice," Ron murmured, glad for Harry's ministrations. "It's still cold out there, however. Why don't we get under the covers and warm up?"

Harry grinned, a wicked gleam in his eye. Grabbing Ron he dove under the covers.

The rest of the afternoon was most enjoyable indeed.

o0o0o0o

Harry could not believe how fast the rest of the week seemed to fly. Despite the weather all week long, Harry, Ron, and sometimes Ginny found themselves with plenty to do. Mrs. Weasley, taking advantage of the three of them being home, put them to work each morning helping her clean up the Burrow. But afternoons she allowed them free range, knowing perfectly well that their little vacation was the last Harry and Ron would be having for quite some time.

It was remarkable, then, that one morning Harry and Ron woke up and came downstairs to find Hermione sitting at the kitchen table, helping Mrs. Weasley peel potatoes for their breakfast.

"Hermione! What are you doing here already?" Ron asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Hermione looked at him skeptically. "It's been a week, Ronald."

"Has it already?" Harry asked, trailing in after Ron, yawning. "It hardly seems possible."

"Well, it has," Hermione said sounding slightly annoyed. "And here I am."

Harry grinned. "And we're glad you're here! Did you have safe travels?"

"Yeah, except I got drenched as soon as I apparated into your yard. I've only just dried out," Hermione answered. "I realize the weather has hardly been sunny and warm over the past few years and that it's only getting worse, but honestly! I think the last two weeks have been the wettest we've seen!"

Ron glowered. "It's because of You-Know-Who," he said. "I think he's getting rather angry. It's been two years already and he _still_ doesn't have the Prophesy yet. I don't think he ever expected Harry to put up the fight that he has."

He looked at Harry with pride in his eyes. Harry smiled back. "Thanks, Ron."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Anyway… back to business. Have you two finalized any plans yet?"

"Plans? What plans?" Mrs. Weasley interrupted. "Did you three have something going on this week?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione glanced at one another. While Mrs. Weasley knew Harry, Ron, and Hermione fully planned on joining the Order now that they were of age and finished at Hogwarts, she knew nothing of the Prophesy or that her son and his two friends were on a mission that could prove dangerous, even deadly.

"Nothing special, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said. "We were just going to hang out here for a few days, if it's all right with you. But then Dumbledore has an assignment for us for the Order."

Mrs. Weasley's pursed her lips into a small, thin line. "I can't pretend that I'm happy that you three have decided to join the Order so young. But I can't stop you, I know that."

Suddenly she swooped down and hugged the three of them to her chest. "Just promise me that you'll be careful!"

"We will, Mum," Ron promised. Harry and Hermione added their promises as well.

Mrs. Weasley let go of them and sighed. "I guess that's all I can expect."

"Don't worry, Mum," Ron said, "We'll send an owl every week to let you know that we're healthy and well and that we have dry socks on."

Mrs. Weasley smacked Ron aside the head with her dishtowel. "Now don't get fresh with me, young man!" she exclaimed. "I know you won't be able to write all the time, but just the same, a note once in a while letting me know you're safe…"

Hermione stood up to hug Mrs. Weasley as her voice cracked.

"I'm sorry," Mrs. Weasley said, trying to get control of her emotions. "I just wish I knew where Fred and George are… it's so terrible not knowing. Just keep me posted, okay?"

"We will," Harry, Ron, and Hermione promised in unison, looking gravely at one another. Inwardly they were all hoping they would be able to keep their word and that they would all return safely, but they all knew there was no guarantee whatsoever of any of that happening.

o0o0o0o

Harry was walking down a long dark corridor that seemed to reach ever onward, never a turn in sight. It felt like he had been here before, but for some reason he could not seem to remember when that was. The walls and ceiling were black as jet and polished to a shine. No light was visible in this tunnel that seemed to get narrower and narrower the further he went.

On and on he walked, his frustration mounting. _Where was it?_ He picked up his pace, his sneakers slapping on the cold surface below him. Soon he was ducking to keep his head from bumping the ceiling, eventually giving up and starting to go through the tube on his hands and knees.

Finally the tunnel ended and with a flash of green light, he found himself standing in a large open room about the size of a cathedral. There was a pool in the middle of the room and Harry realized he was very thirsty. Leaning over the edge, he took a long, deep drink that somehow made him even thirstier than before. Sitting back, he took a look at his reflection and stumbled back in horror.

Voldemort was staring back at him. But more it was more than that. When Harry raised his left hand and Voldemort did the same. Putting his hand up to his face, Harry explored his features there as the mirror-Voldemort did the same.

"No," whispered Harry. "NO!"

"Harry, why do you resist me?" the Voldemort in the pool asked in a hissing whisper that seemed to echo in Harry's mind. "Together we can be so much stronger. We both know you are too weak to resist me. Give in, Harry, give in. Join me!"

"Never!" Harry shouted. "I'll never join you!"

"Then you give me little choice," Voldemort leered, stretching out his hand towards Harry. "I'll just have to take it by force!"

"NO!!" shouted Harry, wrenching himself awake. He looked around him and the twisted sheets around his legs. Feeling a drip of sweat trickle down the back of his neck, he reached back to wipe it away.

"What is it, Harry?" asked Ron who was watching him. "Was it You-Know-Who?"

Harry nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. A flash of annoyance crept over him and he snapped. "When are you going to start calling him by his name already? It's Vol-De-Mort. Just saying his name isn't going to somehow lure him to you; after all, if that's all it took, I think I'd be in real trouble by now."

Ron looked at Harry with wide eyes. "I think you are in trouble, Harry," he whispered. "You might not want to share with me your dreams, but I think it's obvious by the increasing number you're having lately that You-Know-Who is trying to reach you when you're most vulnerable."

Harry sighed, his irritation with Ron ebbing from him. "I'm sorry, love," he said wearily. "I don't mean to take it out on you."

"I know you don't," Ron said, familiar with Harry's darker moods he always got after fighting Voldemort in his dreams. Knowing it was now safe to touch Harry, he reached out and put his arm around his shoulders. "But all the same, night by night he puts a little bit of himself in you and night by night he's trying to take something away. Your humanity, maybe."

Harry shook his head. "I can't just stop these dreams," he said weakly, his frustration rising again. "If I could, you know I would."

"Would you?" Ron asked quietly, hesitantly.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Harry snapped, his irritation back again.

"Nothing," Ron replied quickly. "It's just that, I dunno. Since Dumbledore taught you how to block your thoughts from You-Know-Who, he shouldn't be invading your dreams like this anymore. You should be able to block him. But you don't."

Harry looked at Ron, his irritation at his lover rising. "It's not like I _enjoy_ having these dreams, ya know. You don't know what it's like, night after night dealing with this. You don't know! You _can't_ know!"

Ron pulled away from Harry and sat down on the opposite bed facing him. "Then help me understand!" he exclaimed loudly. "You complain that you're all alone in this and woe is you and no one can possibly understand, but you never give any of us a chance, mate! Not me, not even Dumbledore! You push and push me away when you need me the most. What kind of friendship is that? What kind of _relationship_ is that? Not a very good one."

Harry glared at Ron and Ron glared right back at him. "Maybe not," he said, "but there's some things you can't appreciate, you can't know. In the end this comes down to him and me. No one else."

"Sure, sure, it's all about you, isn't it?" Ron snarled. "'The Boy Who Lived' and all that. Well listen: if it wasn't for your mum who loved you enough to give her life for you, you wouldn't even _be_ here! So don't go on about how it's just you and him in the end. It's only through your friends and your family that you'll ever beat You-Know-Who."

"Say his name, damn it!" Harry snapped, "Stop being such a coward and just use his name!"

Ron looked at Harry with a slightly ill look. "Look," he said, irritated, "Maybe you haven't noticed, but I am _not_ able to stand up to You-Know-Who. I'm not Dumbledore. I'm not _you_."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked.

"I mean, maybe it's your destiny to go and vanquish the most evil creature ever to walk this earth, but it's not mine. I make no pretenses at being something I'm not."

Harry looked at him a bit astonished. "You were just going on and on about how we needed to do this together and now you're changing your tune!"

"Not at all!" exclaimed Ron, standing up to pace. Stopping, he faced Harry again, a look of suppressed annoyance on his face. "Yes, you're right: in the end you'll have to face You-Know-Who and destroy him. But I'll be _damned_ if I sit on the sidelines and watch as you stumble in to your doom alone. Wherever you go, I go. We're in this together."

Harry looked away, his annoyance at Ron fighting with his desire to go to Ron and make things right. Finally he spoke..

"Just leave me alone, Ron," he said, sounding weary.

"Fine," Ron snapped. "I'll just leave you be."

And with that, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him, causing the ghoul in the attic to start wailing.

"Oh shut up," said Harry, "I'm trying to sleep."

But he couldn't for a very long time. Ron's voice kept dancing around inside his head until finally Harry fell into a fitful sleep, his dreams filled with images of Ron's retreating figure who never spoke except to remind Harry that he was all alone. No one would be there to help him. He was on his own.

When he woke in the morning and went downstairs, Ron was gone.


	4. The Second Attack

"Well, what did you expect?" Hermione asked Harry the next morning after he told her about the previous night's argument. "It sounds like you were a bit hard on him. Maybe he just needed to get away for a while. He'll be back."

"You think so?" Harry asked, not feeling quite as confident as Hermione sounded.

"Of course he will!" Hermione answered, exasperated. "If for no other reason, this is still his home and he still lives here."

Harry looked at Hermione for a moment, feeling oddly stupid. Of course Ron would come back. He always did.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he sighed.

"It's okay," Hermione said softly.

"No, not just about Ron. I'm sorry to you for how I've been behaving recently."

Hermione quirked a small smile. "You _have_ been flying off the handle a bit more than usual these past few weeks," she said thoughtfully, "but I figure you're just under stress. And frankly, I'm not really one who should criticize."

Harry let out a snort. "No," he chuckled, "I guess not. Forgiven?"

"If you forgive me!" Hermione answered.

"Done deal," said Harry. Then looking at her curiously, he asked the question that had been bothering him since before they left school.

"Hermione, what was with you that last week at school?"

Hermione looked at him, her face bearing a slightly pained look. "Nothing out of the ordinary, Harry. I think it was just the stress of the exams compounded everything else going on until it was just too much for me to handle. But I'm okay now."

"What 'everything else' are you talking about?" Harry asked, confused.

Hermione bit her lip. There was no way she would ever tell Harry about her feelings for Ron. She would not break up their friendship like that. "Oh, splitting up with Viktor and having to say goodbye to Hogwarts and knowing that in just a little while we'll be facing our greatest challenge of our lives… you know… that sort of stuff."

"Oh," said Harry. "I guess that's enough to drive anyone a little crazy."

Hermione smiled, but before she could respond, an owl soared in through the window with her subscription to the Daily Prophet. It dropped the paper squarely on top of Harry's porridge and stuck out his leg for payment. Seconds later it flew back out the window and Hermione rescued the paper from Harry's breakfast. Unfolding it, she scanned the front page quickly.

"Oh dear," she murmured almost to herself.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"It seems like another village was attacked by the giants. Muggles everywhere being tortured. The dementors seem to have banded together for some sort of attack on Hogsmeade. You know. The usual."

Harry nodded silently. Every day the news reported similar stories. It was definitely time to do something about it.

Hermione flipped through the rest of the paper and was just putting it down when something caught her eye. Orange juice spurted out of her mouth as she took a closer look.

"Harry! Look at this! They've taken Professor Moody!"

"What?" Harry echoed, astonished.

"It says here there was another attack on the professor at his home and while it appears he put up a good fight, oh god… The dementors… oh it's too horrible!" Hermione cried, flinging the paper at Harry.

Harry took up the article, a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Scanning the page he found where Hermione left off and fought a wave of sickness that threatened to erupt from him. The dementor's kiss… Moody was gone…

It didn't seem fair for Moody to go down like this. Not like this… not after a lifetime of service of bringing down powerful dark witches and wizards. He was better than this, stronger than most curses; to be left soulless, well, it was a fate worse than death, _especially_ for Moody.

"That's the third Order member this year to be eliminated," Hermione said dully, wiping her eyes, her voice quivering.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Voldemort knows he's stronger when we're weaker, and we're definitely weaker without him."

"It doesn't seem like something Voldemort would do though, does it?" Hermione commented.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Well," Hermione answered, "Usually the strongest adversaries he has he likes to deal with himself. Professor Moody put away more of his supporters than anyone else alive."

"Unless he wanted Moody to suffer," said Harry, thinking. "Killing him outright might seem too quick, too convenient."

Hermione shrugged then let out another sob. "I just can't believe he's gone! First Tonks, then Shacklebolt, now Moody!"

"It does seem like he's picking us off one by one, doesn't it," Harry observed.

Hermione let out a gasp. "That's it, Harry!"

"What's it?"

"That's exactly what he's doing! He's getting rid of the biggest threats to him so that there's a clear path…"

"…to me," Harry finished grimly, understanding what Hermione was saying.

Hermione and Harry stared at each other for a moment as the reality sank in. Members of the Order were being systematically eliminated because of Harry. Harry's continued existence meant the lives of many good people had been and would continue to be sacrificed.

"Oh god, Harry!" Hermione whispered.

"I can't let them die because of me," said Harry, his whole demeanor firm. "This ends _now._ As soon as Ron gets back I think we need to find Dumbledore."

"Right," said Hermione. "In the meantime, we should let Professor Dumbledore know to expect us a bit earlier than he anticipated. Is he still at Hogwarts?"

"Yeah," answered Harry.

"Okay. I'll send a message while you get –"

But Harry never heard whatever Hermione was about to say. Gasping, he doubled over as pain seared through his body, a pain he'd felt before only when Voldemort was attacking him with the Cruciatus Curse. Fiery needles pierced through his body and his vision was blinded by the pain. Then suddenly a new pain like nothing he had ever experienced before in his life ripped through his scar. Turning on his side he retched as wave upon wave of excruciating pain hit him.

"HARRY!!" Hermione screamed, rushing over to him.

But Harry could not hear her cries. He was oblivious to all else around him and it felt like he had never known anything besides the pain; it was in him, through him, a part of him. There was no separating the person from the pain. His body was almost numb and he could not feel his limbs. He could not even form a thought to beg for this torture to end…

Yet suddenly, quite abruptly, it did end. Harry lay on his side, gasping for breath, trying to remember who he and where he was.

"Harry! Harry! Can you hear me?" Hermione's panicked voice finally broke through.

"Yes," Harry answered hoarsely, as if he had been screaming, but he could not remember doing so.

"Thank heavens!" cried Hermione, sounding infinitely relieved. "Can you sit up?"

Harry tried but his arms were too weak to help him. Hermione, sensing his trouble, came up behind him and helped him back into a chair. Coming around in front of him, she lifted his head and gasped.

"What?" Harry asked almost incoherently.

"Harry! Your scar! It's – it's _bleeding_!"

"What?" Harry asked stupidly, putting his hand against his forehead. Bringing it down, he frowned at the thick blood on his fingers. Hermione was already trying a healing spell but much to her frustration it seemed to have no effect.

"We have to get you to St. Mungo's right away!" cried Hermione alarmed, trying to propel Harry out of his seat.

"No!" Harry exclaimed quite loudly, the suggestion clearing his senses more effectively than anything else. "Do not take me there! Get me to Hogwarts. We have to see Dumbledore."

"But Harry," Hermione began to protest.

"No arguments, Hermione. St. Mungo's is dangerous; it's too influenced by those in Voldemort's powers. It'd be too easy to attack me there."

Hermione, seeing the logic in this, agreed to help him back to school.

"Are you strong enough to Apparate?" she asked him.

Harry shook his head. "I don't think so. I can barely see straight. You'll have to help me."

Hermione nodded. "We need to find Mrs. Weasley and let her know we're leaving and tell her to tell Ron where we've gone."

Harry nodded, too tired to speak. Wordlessly Hermione got up to seek out Mrs. Weasley while Harry prayed she would have the tact not to tell Mrs. Weasley why exactly they were leaving so immediately. He did not want her worrying about him more than she already was.

Just then Ginny came into the room. She glanced at Harry and then did a double take. "Harry!" she cried, "Your scar! What happened?"

"Voldemort," Harry answered hoarsely.

"You mean he's here?" Ginny asked, whipping out her wand.

"No," said Harry. "He's nowhere near here."

Ginny lowered her wand. "What can I do to help?" she asked concernedly.

Harry looked at her gratefully. One thing he greatly appreciated about Ginny was her cool head and calm logic under pressure. If there was one person in the whole world he trusted as much as Dumbledore in matters regarding Voldemort it was her.

"Nothing," Harry answered, "Just let Ron know Hermione and I are going to Dumbledore's when you see him? And try to keep your mum calm."

Ginny nodded. Then, quite abruptly she said, "Harry, I'm coming with you."

"To Dumbledore's? Why?" Harry asked, confused.

"Not just to Dumbledore's. To find Voldemort."

Harry looked at Ginny in amazement. "I can't let you do that!" he exclaimed. "It's too dangerous!"

Ginny looked at him skeptically. "Maybe," she said, "but you need all the help you can get. And there's only one other person who knows what it's like to be completely controlled by Voldemort and that's me. You need me, Harry. There's nothing you can say or do to stop me coming with you."

Harry gaped at Ginny for a moment, thinking. "Okay," he said finally.

"Okay!" Ginny answered, smiling slightly as if relieved.

Just then Hermione came back into the kitchen. "Oh, hello Ginny," she said before turning to Harry. She frowned at the sight of Harry's pale face and freely bleeding forehead but refrained from further comment. Instead she asked, "Are you ready to go?"

Harry nodded and Hermione helped him stand. "Just a second, Hermione," he said. Looking at Ginny he said, "Can you please wait for Ron and tell him where we are?"

Ginny nodded. "Will do."

"Thanks," Harry smiled weakly. "See you in a bit."

Hermione looked from Harry to Ginny with a mild expression of confusion, but refrained from making any comment. Instead she gathered up her concentration and a second later she and Harry arrived at the train depot in Hogsmeade. Lifting her wand, she shot off a patronus to Dumbledore alerting him of their arrival.

"There," she said. "Now he knows we're coming and can be ready for us."

Harry looked at Hermione with admiration in his eyes. "Your patronus is quite good you know," he said.

Hermione smiled, blushing. "Thanks."

"I didn't know you knew how to send messages through them," Harry said as they started walking from the platform.

"Well, I figured if the Order uses them to communicate and we were joining the Order, it only made sense to learn how to take the Patronus Charm one step further."

"That's what I love about you," said Harry, smiling. "I can always count on you knowing the right thing to do."

"Not always," answered Hermione seriously. "I don't know what to do with your scar right now, for example."

"Madam Pomphrey will know what to do," Harry answered, wishing he felt as confident as he sounded. As good as the witch was at healing, he knew that he had been cursed with ancient dark magic and that took a special kind of power to heal. His scar was still bleeding freely and the blood was starting to get into his eyes.

"I hope you're right, Harry," answered Hermione.

"Hey, look! There's Dumbledore!" exclaimed Harry, looking out in front of them.

Sure enough, Dumbledore was racing towards them on a broom with two empty brooms trailing behind him. A strangely intense look was on his face as he stopped in front of Harry and Hermione. Without even greeting them, he took out his wand and started tracing the lines of Harry's scar, whispering a series of spells that were unknown even to Hermione.

Harry was not sure what Dumbledore was doing exactly, but some of the dull residual pain and stinging left from the attack was beginning to subside.

"Thanks Professor," Harry said.

"Shh," answered Dumbledore. "Don't talk here. Let's get you back to the castle."

It was a strange feeling for Harry to reenter the school grounds when not even two weeks ago he was bidding them farewell for what he thought was the last time. Shortly, however, he, Hermione, and Dumbledore were seated in Dumbledore's office. Madam Pomphrey was already at hand with a potion ready. Handing it to Harry she instructed him to drink it all and as he did so (after an encouraging nod from Dumbledore). While he drank she bustled around him, checking him over to make sure he was okay.

"Thank you Poppy," Dumbledore said. "That will be all."

"But Professor," Madam Pomphrey protested, "this boy needs some serious attention! Not even I will be able to fully tend him. He needs to get to the hospital wing straight away!"

"Not yet, Poppy. Harry and I have a few things to discuss first. I'll send him and Miss Grainger here down to you when we are finished." Dumbledore told her.

Madam Pomphrey, knowing it was useless to protest further, bobbed shortly and left the office. Dumbledore, after seeing her shut the door behind her, turned to Harry.

"Tell me what happened, Harry," he said gently, his piercing blue eyes looking intently at him.

Harry looked askance at Hermione before beginning. "I'm not quite sure, Professor," he started. "We were just talking when he hit me with what felt like the Cruciatus Curse and I lost control over my body. But then," here he paused and shot another sideways look at Hermione before continuing, "well, it was like he was inside my head, digging through my memories. Then he spoke."

"What did he say?" asked Dumbledore intently, holding up a hand toward Hermione to stem any comments she was about to make.

"He said," Harry gulped, "he said that my time was drawing to an end, that I was powerless to defeat him and that soon he would have all that he needed from me and he would rise to such power that he never obtained before."

Dumbledore looked intently at Harry, taking in every word. "What else happened, Harry?" he asked.

"I saw something," Harry said hesitantly. "He deliberately showed me what he had in store and… it's gruesome and awful. I can't describe it except to say that we are all in danger. He must be stopped at all cost and we haven't got much time."

Dumbledore inclined his head as if listening intently for a far distant sound, his eyes never leaving Harry's. "Would you allow me to see it as well?" he asked gently.

Harry hesitated then nodded. Dumbledore stood and, crossing the room, took down his Pensieve. Harry extracted the memory and watched as Dumbledore saw what he had seen only moments ago.

After a moment, Dumbledore looked up sharply at Harry with an expression Harry had never seen before. Here before him was suddenly a great wizard whom to be feared and Harry once again knew, as he had known when he saw Dumbledore duel with Voldemort at the Ministry, why it was Voldemort feared him.

"We must go at once," Dumbledore said, standing. "But first we need to make sure you are strong enough for the journey. Let's get you down to the hospital wing. Fawkes, will you fetch Professor Snape for me and have him meet us there?"

The phoenix blinked slowly in acknowledgment and disappeared in a burst of flames. Harry stared at Dumbledore with a fixed look of horror on his face.

"Snape?" he echoed. "I don't want him anywhere _near_ me!"

"Harry, you will have to learn, as I did long ago, to trust Severus Snape. He is the best person to deal with this sort of curse and you will mend the quickest under his care."

"He's right, Harry," Hermione finally spoke. "He's saved your life on more than one occasion. I think it's time you give him the benefit of the doubt."

Harry still looked skeptical. "I don't trust that man," he said for what must have been the thousandth time. "He hates me, just like he hated my dad. He's been itching for an opportunity to get rid of me and now you're asking me just to hand myself over to him, like a lamb to the slaughter!"

"That's a bit dramatic," said Dumbledore. "And that's quite enough. I trust Professor Snape with my life… and with yours. But if that's still not enough to convince you, let me assure you that I will stay with you the entire time and that should be enough to satisfy you."

Harry tried to ignore the angry timbre of the headmaster's voice as he nodded his consent. His scar was beginning to bleed again and he wondered at what brand of magic this was that Dumbledore could not fix but Snape could.

By the time they all had reached the hospital wing, however, Harry no longer was caring who it was who would treat him. The pain that had subsided was starting to come back and his head was aching. This second assault in the past two weeks was unlike anything he had experienced before and yet as much as Harry wanted to put it behind him the more persistent the memory became until he was reliving the attack again and again, almost as if Voldemort was raping his mind. If someone could help, he did not care who it was, even if that person was the one person he distrusted more than any other: Severus Snape.

Dumbledore and Hermione helped Harry into bed while Madam Pomphrey came bustling out. She took one look at Harry and went running for her potion cabinet.

"What happened, Headmaster?" she asked as she searched for a certain particular potion.

"Harry has been cursed by an especially dark magic. He will continue to degrade despite any short term treatments we can give him. Even your strongest will only temporarily assuage his symptoms. But do what you can for him while we wait."

Hermione looked uncertainly up at Dumbledore as he said this. "What do you mean, Professor?"

"I mean, Miss Grainger, that this is beyond my ability to heal. Professor Snape will be able to help him more than I, but even that will not be enough. The only thing that can end this cycle is for Voldemort to be destroyed, thereby taking his curse with him."

Hermione looked up at Dumbledore with horror written on all her features. "What does this mean for Harry?"

"It means the Prophesy is coming true," Dumbledore stated calmly. "Without even knowing the contents of it, Voldemort is creating the very situation it predicted: either Harry will defeat him or Harry will die."

"Isn't there _anything_ you can do for him?" Hermione asked, her voice wavering.

"Yes, and that is to get Professor Snape. He will be able slow this process and gain control over it enough so that Harry has the strength, the ability to fight Voldemort. But as he is away from Hogwarts at the moment, it will be a little while before he gets there. In the meantime, Madam Pomphrey and I will do what we can to help him."

Suddenly Harry, who had been reliving the attack again rather than listening to Hermione and Dumbledore's conversation, convulsed and a manic red glint came to his eyes.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, bending over him.

Harry struggled for a moment as if wrestling with something, but then a voice came through him that was not quite his own.

"Stand aside, Hermione," the voice said. And before she or Dumbledore could react, Harry lifted his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore.

"You should have seen this coming, old man," the voice snarled. "Always too weak to accept real power, always the champion of Muggles and fools. You're in my way."

"Tom." Dumbledore whispered.

"Never use that name!" Harry snarled. Then without warning, he flicked his wand. "_Avada Kedavra!_"

There was a flash of green light and Dumbledore fell backwards. But before Hermione could even process what had happened, Harry screamed and started to writhe. Hermione turned to him and saw something almost like a specter rising out of Harry. As soon as the spirit (or whatever it was) was gone Harry fell limp.

"Harry?" Hermione whispered, shaking him gently.

"He won't wake," said a familiar voice. It was Snape.

Hermione looked at Harry, tears streaming down her face. Snape was right. Harry was in a coma.

She turned her head away from the sight and her eyes landed on Dumbledore. Suddenly she realized what else she was seeing: Dumbledore was laying spread-eagle on the floor with a look of astonishment on his face, unmistakably dead.


End file.
